Personally, I'd rather be a potato

I have read a number of books on the subject of tzniut since becoming frum.  The most infamous, Modesty--An Adornment for Life by the obsessive (and possibly pervy) Rabbi Eliyahu Falk I've only glanced through, because it's almost encyclopedic.  I've also read Daughters of Dignity, 6 Stories, and Seams and Souls.  Along with the laws, one usually runs across the following scenario:
"Imagine going into a jewelry store to buy a diamond bracelet.  You are buzzed in, and the diamonds are locked away under glass.  Now, imagine buying a potato.  They're out in the open, for anyone to take.  Would you rather be a diamond, or a potato?"
The implication, of course, is that we would rather be a diamond.  Diamonds are rare and precious, and must be hidden away.  But anyone can just take up a potato.  They're cheap and readily available.(Am I the only one who senses a slight rape culture vibe in that statement?)
But let's consider each.
Like us, both diamonds and potatoes contain carbon.  But the similarity ends there.  Diamonds, unless they're used in saws (and the ones that ends up in jewelry do not), are purely ornamental.  They are meant to be shown off and then locked away.  Moreover, they usually say, "Look at me!  I'm pretty!  I'm expensive!  I have value!"  I would not call that very modest, or even very practical.
However, potatoes are both modest and practical.  They are completely unassuming, drawing no attention to themselves whatsoever.  Moreover, they are living entities!  They can reproduce by themselves.  (Potato plants are usually grown from pieces of potatoes, rather than seeds.).  Moreover, they are food.  They provide energy and some nutrients.
Now, I happen to take umbrage at being compared (and therefore reduced to) an inanimate object.  However, given this rather bizarre little dichotomy, I think I'd rather be a potato.

(HT Love Joy Feminism for the image)

Tznius vs loshon hara--which is more important?

Last night, Chavie and I started learning the laws of loshon hara.  We begin by stating that the best prevention for loshon hara, or evil talk, is being dan l'kaf zchus.  Loosely translated, don't judge people.  Sounds fair.  It's an idea that has a lot of merit.  And it does come straight from the Torah.  So, no arguments from me.
But then, Chavie had to continue.
She goes on about the depravity of this generation. Specifically, how a friend's daughter is wearing a skirt above the knee.  Oh no!
Um, Chavie, didn't we just finish discussing the importance of NOT JUDGING PEOPLE!?
Over and over again, our Torah discusses the importance of proper speech.  Don't judge, don't slander, don't gossip.  I think there are at least twenty separate mitzvos (if not more) related solely to speech.  However, the Torah has four--count 'em, four!--mitzvos related to dress for those of us who are not the Kohen Gadol.  And one of those is by implication only.

1. Men don't wear women's clothes
2. Women don't wear men's clothes
3. Don't blend linen and wool.
4. (this is the one that's implied) married women must cover their hair.

 Nowhere does it mention skirt length.  When I mention this to Chavie she sputters about Rabbi Falk's sefer.  I've read it.  Now, unless Hashem has changed his name to Rabbi Falk, I'm going to pay more attention to a person's words and deeds, and less to their skirt length. 

Baby bling

When Thing 1 was born, my in-laws (after getting over their collective horror that I refused to name her solely for my mother-in-law, but hey, I have dead relatives too) asked me the first of what would be many questions about her upbringing.  "Nu, when are you going to take her for earrings?"  When she's old enough to take care of them herself.  First of all, my kids will have their fill of holes poked in them with all the vaxes they get (although I postponed the chicken-pox shot as long as I could--the jury's still out on it's effectiveness.).  Secondly, while an older child can appreciate earrings, I doubt a baby will.  All they'll know is that someone is punching a hole in their little ears and putting in some heavy metal thing and it HURTS!  And third, why does someone who doesn't even know what ears are need bling in them?  Call me old-fashioned, but we can save it for when they're older.
Unfortunately, the bling doesn't just end with baby earrings.  For little girls in this community, everything from hats to outfits to pacifier clips have the potential to be studded with rhinestones.  And that's if you avoid the gold and fake ruby bracelets meant to ward off ayin hara.  Moreover, it doesn't end with babies.  Somehow both animal prints and sequins are considered appropriate attire for children as young as four.  Again, I tend to err on the side of conservative when it comes to dressing my children (the Things' fall clothes come courtesy of the good people of French Toast, and their spring clothes are usually floral skirts and jumpers with pastel long-sleeve T's), but to my mind, leopard prints and sequins belong on grown women in Vegas, not on little girls in Boro Park.
And now it's time to savor the irony.
We live in a society that puts so much emphasis on modesty that even a picture of women's shoes--minus the woman--is deemed too immodest for publication.  Then, we turn around and dress our young children in attention-getting sequined tank tops (over shells, of course--because an elbow is more attention getting than all those sparkles), rhinestones, and jewelry. 
Incidentally, the epilogue to the earring story referenced above--my SIL did talk me into getting Thing 1's ears pierced when she was 2.  Then the holes got infected and closed up. She wants to take Thing 2, now age four for a piercing, and I say wait until they're 12.  The risk of infection is enough to make me leery of a repeat performance.

Parshat Beshallach--some more kol isha

  Feed the birds.  Do a mitzvah.  And if singing was good enough for Miriam, it's good enough for me.

Little princesses

When I was a little girl, I loved dressing up in fancy dresses and sequined dress-up gowns.  My kids love the same thing.  I don't know what it is--you can stock the dress-up box with as many fire helmets, animal masks and cowgirl hats as you want, and girls will inevitably go for the shiny princess gowns and tiaras.
Yesterday, I was looking over a children's book about modesty.  Inside was a poem about a princess who wore dazzling gowns and heavy jeweled tiaras.  One day, the gardener's daughter asked the girl, "Why are you wearing all those heavy, impractical clothes?  Why not wear overalls and a straw hat like mine?  The princess explained that her gowns, jewels and tiaras showed the whole world her special status as the daughter of the King.  (Of course, the reference is obvious--as Jewish girls, we are the daughters of Hashem, King of the Universe, and our tzniusdik clothing reflects that status.  I certainly prefer that explanation to "You're going to distract a bochur from his learning with your exposed elbows!"  Anyone thinks that way about my kids--or me, they should be locked up.)
Of course, we're not the only ones who feel this way.
I get tired of all the black clothing for children.  So, I've been scouting around for modest dress patterns for my girls.  There is a company called--surprise!--The King's Daughters*, that specializes in modest clothing for fundie X-tians!  (Apparently we're not the only ones who use that imagery.)  Of course, their patterns would need a LOT of modification--I don't think ankle-length, puffy-sleeved prairie dresses, pinafores, and sunbonnets would go over to well in very urban Boro Park.
But why the need to be princesses?  Why do we need this regal imagery to sell the idea of modest dress?  After all, we don't call kashrut "The Royal Diet."  Why do girls need to feel like princesses?  And, if we are princesses, why aren't we invested with the royal purple?  What's with all the black?
Somehow, I don't think we'll ever know.
*I'm not advocating the use of this company; the link is merely there for demonstrative purposes.

It's not in the Torah, but it trumps everything...

I'm speaking, of course, about tzniut.
There was a story years ago, about a young girl who was offered a choice--convert or die.  She chose death, and was sentenced to be dragged through the streets of town by a horse-drawn cart.  She had only one request--that she could pin her skirt to her knees so that it wouldn't ride up.  As the sentence began, onlookers could hear the girl crying out.  The carriage stopped, and the girl asked if she could replace some of the pins that were coming loose!
And then, there was the story of Revital Avraham, a young girl of nineteen who died of brain cancer because she was too pretty!  (Of course, this was AFTER her beautiful red hair had been burned off her head.)
And now we have...this.  For some things, there are no words.
Yes, there are.
We have a mother torturing her daughter for all eternity for the sake of...tznius.  Not honestly, not fair dealings, not kindness to her fellow man and to G-d's creatures, but for not covering up enough of her body.  Forget the the Top Ten on the stones written by the Hand of Hashem, this one doesn't even make the 613!  The only references in the Torah to women and dress, are "Don't wear men's clothing" (whatever that means), and an oblique reference to covering hair.  Nothing about what needs to be covered, nothing about stocking thickness or seams.  True, we are supposed to "walk modestly with G-d", but that could mean a hundred things, including a ban on JAP behavior and conspicuous consumption.  Or not taking on a thousand chumras to outfrum your neighbor and drive a wedge between yourself and other Jews. 
If this is what we are teaching our kids, then I'm not sure I want any part of it.

Do you believe in magic?

Having a run of bad luck?  Check your mezuzahs.
Breaking the law?  Donate to Kupat Ha'ir.
Want your daughter to get married?  Join with other women to bake challah.
Segulos.  Now there's something I DEFINITELY did not sign up for.
When I was 15, a love of nature combined with a field trip to Salem, Massachusetts sparked an interest in Wicca.  Three years later, I dropped it all for a weekly trip to the little synagogue that could.  Several years after that, my Messianic ex convinced me to burn all my Wicca books.  (Seriously.  He took me to the beach and set fire to my books.)  I considered magical interventions to be a closed chapter in my life.
Then Thing 1 was born.  Right away, my family wanted to me to put a red string on her to protect her from the evil eye.  No thank you.  Speaking as someone who spent three years learning about magical practices, this had "talisman" written all over it.  I'm sorry, but the last time I checked, doesn't the Torah, oh I don't know, FORBID this sort of thing?
Unfortunately, this was only the first of many segulos I heard about.  I read the Kupat Ha'ir brochures mostly for laughs, but on occasion there would be a story about someone breaking the law.  The authorities would be on to the person, but one call to Kupat Ha'ir and--problem solved!  Chavie's family is having trouble with various health problems, so she wants to check her mezuzah.  Why?  Putting up a mezuzah is a mitzvah, not a magic spell to protect your house.  I think too much of what we now call Yiddishkeit got mixed up with Eastern European superstitions and folk magic.  And, because we focus almost exclusively on mesorah, we can't separate out the actual Judaism from the cultural flotsam and jetsam.
Hashem has given us a Torah, but has also given us a world that works in a certain way.  Instead of using segulos, work with what's there.  And stop treating your mezuzah like some kind of protection charm.  Somehow, I don't think that's what G-d had in mind.

Post-Purim WTH?

Builder brought home the Flatbush Jewish Journal so I would have something to read over Shabbos.   Inside, in the Letters to the Editor section, I found, not one, not two, but three separate letters on the same topic--girls gone wild, Purim edition.
Apparently, while nice yeshiva bochurim go out collecting tzedaka for worthy causes (which involves putting on costumes, hanging out with friends, drinking, and smoking), they are accosted by young girls, who are putting on costumes, hanging out with friends, drinking, smoking, and worst of all, having the unmitigated chutzpah to engage these young men in conversation!  Not that!
Apparently, these girls are too much of a distraction for these nice young men, and the pure-hearted, if slightly inebriated bochurim, may end up having their refined nature compromised by all the pritzus in their midst.
OK, now how's this for another perspective.  After having complete dual-curriculum homework and helping their mothers costume younger siblings, prepare mishloach manot for everyone, and cook a seudah, and then sitting quietly through a Megillah leining, girls see their brothers going off to wear fun costumes, hang ut with friends, and drink and party.  So, she has two choices: decide that what's good for the gander is good for the goose (after all, the costumes, drinking and partying are technically bittul Torah, so if my brother gets to have all this fun, why can't I?) or stay home and feel resentful.  Guess what most teenagers will choose!
Purim used to be one of my favorite holidays.  Then I moved to Brooklyn.

More to tznuis than meets the eye

Last night, Chavie and I got into it again.  The topic--tznius.  Chavie mentioned that her daughters don't dress up for Purim after Bas Mitzvah.  My response--"what's the fun in that?"  (I love dressing up on Purim.)
Chavie: "It's not tznius."
Me: "It's Purim."
Chavie: "You NEVER take a break from tznius!"  Chavie then went on to go into how Torah is for men, and tznius is for women.  I then countered with the fact that most of the specific halachot on tznuis came from the Mishnah Berurah--a fairly recent source.  I also pulled out some fashion history, such as that at one time, no woman would have dreamed of showing her legs, but nearly all women showed their decolletage--yet the reverse is true today.  Chavie responded that the importance of tznius for women comes from the Torah.  Of course, she couldn't quote me chapter and verse.  Know why?  IT'S NOT THERE!!!!!!!!!!    The only reference she could come up with was that when the malachim visited Abraham, Sarah was in the tent--exactly where I'd be during a heatwave.  (For those who don't remember--Abraham was recovering from his circumcision, so G-d sent a heatwave to keep everyone away.  But Abraham wanted visitors, so G-d sent three men.)  I also pointed out the irony of discussing this during the only parsha in the Torah which mentions a dress code, Tetzaveh--which discusses the beautiful, brightly colored, bejeweled, golden garments of the Kohanim. 
Chavie:  "But of course they wore brightly colored clothing.  They were royalty!"
Me: "Aren't women supposed to be princesses?"
Of course they are.  But unlike Kate Middleton, we show our royal status by covering up and hiding away. 
Of course, I wanted to know the source for tznius being for women the way Torah is for men.  She mentioned that women have a yetzer hara not to be tzniusdik the way men have a yetzer hara not to learn.  (Since Builder spends a lot of spare time with a Gemara, that doesn't fly with me.)  So, I looked it up.  Big surprise, the sentiment was found nowhere in the Torah.  It wasn't in the Talmud.  It wasn't even in the Shulchan Aruch.  Apparently, the Vilna Gaon had written a letter to his mother (the following is excerpted from Congregation Toras Chaim's website):
When the Vilna Gaon set out on a journey (that he hoped would take him to Eretz Yisroel), he sent a letter of chizuk (strength) to his family, known as the Igeres HaGra. In it he warned them about the need to avoid anger, arguments, jealousy and similar bad midos. In particular, he stressed the gravity of the sin of lashon horah and other speech-related aveiros. Towards the end of the letter, he addresses his mother with the following words: אהובתי אמי, ידעתי שאינך צריכה למוסר שלי כי ידעתי כי צנועה את – “My dear mother, I know that you do not require my mussar, for I am aware that you are a tznua (very modest person).” Although the mussar (ethical and moral guidance) given in the letter concerned all types of negative traits, he was nevertheless convinced that his mother, who was an outstanding tznua, was above all negative traits and did not require guidance from him to overcome anger, lashon horah, and the like. He was convinced, that just as being steeped in Torah enables a man to combat his “lower self,” so too, being steeped in tznius enables a woman to be victorious in the same way. He therefore knew that his mother, who was an exceptional tznua, would surely overcome whatever test she would encounter.
Now, the last time I checked, the Vilna Gaon lived in the 18th century.  Back then, even prostitutes dressed somewhat modestly.  Tznius, then, had to refer to more than just dress.  It is an attitude, a lifestyle.  And, yes, it is important.  But somehow, I think there is more to it than collars, wigs, skirts and stockings.

Of modesty and Margaret Mitchell

One of my favorite scenes in Gone With the Wind ( I LOVE GWTW) is the scene where Scarlett is getting dressed for the Wilkes' barbecue.  Hoping to seduce Ashley Wilkes into marriage, she rejects all her morning dresses, and chooses an afternoon dress that shows off both her arms and decolletage.  Mammy, concerned about propriety, chides Scarlett on her immodest choice (You can't show your bosom before three o'clock!)  The irony, of course, is that the dress, while revealing her cleavage, completely obscures her legs and hips under a bell-shaped crinoline.  Later in the novel, when the crinoline is abandoned in favor of the bustle, Scarlett (who had no problem showing cleavage) felt embarrassed to reveal the shape of her abdomen.
Throughout history, the definition of modesty has been pretty malleable.  Covered heads and legs have been the norm, in some form or another, for at least the past millennium.  However, it has also been considered the norm for women to wear dresses that reveal their busts, especially during evening hours.  During the 19th century, it was considered immodest to wear makeup at all, but in the 1930s, it was considered immodest not to.  It was only during the 1920s that hemlines were raised, and even then, they were raised kicking and screaming.  During the 1960s, pants were unacceptable attire for women in business and social settings, but miniskirts that barely covered a woman's rear were the norm.  In her 1940 edition of Etiquette, Emily Post writes that a business woman's hair must always be held back, not hanging loose like a little girl. 
In the Orthodox world, ankle-length skirts are considered unacceptable for street wear, but stockings are required.  Heads are covered, but with well-made wigs that are indistinguishable from the wearer's natural hair.  The bust must be covered, but few limits are placed on the amount of makeup and jewelry worn.  So, what, pray tell, does it even mean to be "modest"?